


Chisao, Curry Transformation

by Darkrealmist



Category: Rockman | Mega Man - All Media Types, Rockman.EXE | Mega Man Battle Network
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anime, Background Relationships, Beaches, Comedy, Cooking, Curry, Episode Related, Exploration, F/M, Fun, Games, Ghosts, Haunted Houses, Hot Springs & Onsen, Humor, M/M, Multi, Partial Nudity, Restaurants, Retcon, Sports, Summer Vacation, Training Camp, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000, Wordcount: Over 1.000, Wordcount: Under 10.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-01 01:08:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20805878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkrealmist/pseuds/Darkrealmist
Summary: During summer vacation, set on obtaining Maha Ichiban’s fabled company parka, Oyama Chisao subjects his boyfriend to bizarre curry recipes in order to improve his cooking skills. Their antics coincide with the Cross Fusion Members’ “training” at the beach.





	Chisao, Curry Transformation

Chisao, Curry Transformation

Author’s Note: An alternate take on the events of episode 44 of _Stream_. A spiritual successor to my fic, “Brains ‘n’ Brawn” (<http://archiveofourown.org/works/18874285>). Title is a play on episode 22 of _Stream_, “Dekao, Curry Transformation”. Enjoy the story and R&R.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to or of the Rockman EXE series.

Pairings: Established Chisao x Kosuke. Referenced established Netto x Tohru, one-sided Meiru x Netto, one-sided Jasmine x Netto, unrequited Yaito x Enzan, unrequited Anetta x Enzan.

Summary:

During summer vacation, set on obtaining Maha Ichiban’s fabled company parka, Oyama Chisao subjects his boyfriend to bizarre curry recipes in order to improve his cooking skills. Their antics coincide with the Cross Fusion Members’ “training” at the beach.

* * *

More than getting a head start on next semester’s studies, more than learning to windsurf, one goal topped Oyama Chisao’s list of summer resolutions: to be awarded the honour of wearing Maha Ichiban’s embroidered company parka by his vacation’s conclusion. Each staff member received his or her own jacket advertising the team logo, and he desired to walk among the greats.

Back at the business’ central location, Chisao had ascended the ladder in a remarkably short span. Once, a humble fill-in server. Now, an up-and-coming sous chef. No longer did management trust him only to refill customers’ glasses with water. He was moving up in the world!

Labour laws strictly forbade minors, except child actors, Net Saviours, or tycoons like Enzan and Yaito from being employed in the workforce, but the former executives of a Net Terrorist cell such as World Three weren’t exactly the gold standard for model citizenship. They paid their taxes and opposed Neo WWW. That didn’t mean they wouldn’t cut corners and cheat the system, hiding underage help in their restaurant. Having Dekao and Chisao on payroll was too profitable. So long as the _real_ WWW kept its clientele happy, none saw the necessity to report the violations. Dekao could pass for fifteen, and Chisao simply skiddooed whenever health inspectors came round.

At seven, Chisao wasn’t about to argue against an honest buck if he actually put in the elbow grease. He skipped grades in school, excelled at NetBattling, and had a job. For all intents and purposes he knew of, that made him a functional adult, ergo society might as well treat him deferentially.

Apprenticing under his brother and Mahajarama garnered him a basic white apron, double-breasted coat, and toque. One-third on the path towards becoming a first-rate cook. Chisao pursued his ambitions rigorously, which is why he requested to tag along with the group to Maha Ichiban’s seaside offshoot to gain field experience.

Rush could watch the main shop. At least, they reckoned he could. Little did they suspect the dog would abscond to the bluffs to soak in the sun himself, leaving the store unsupervised.

Beachgoers demanded stronger conditioning. Curry wasn’t everyone’s premier dining option amid broiling temperatures. Thus, Hinoken wowed spectators with his fire spinning, and Count Elec strummed rockin’ chords on his electric guitar to draw in hungry crowds.

Meanwhile, Chisao force-fed experimental farragoes to his boyfriend.

Kosuke ate uncertainly in blue trunks at the table nearest the exit. His iconic yellow cap was missing, offering a rare peek at his flattened, disheveled hair.

“How is it, chu?”

Kosuke dropped his spoon over his half-eaten sundae, biting his tongue and squinting in disgust. “Needs sugar! Lots and lots of sugar!”

Dekao felt sorry for the youngster-turned-guinea-pig. “Chisao, ease up before we have to phone Poison Control.”

The smaller Oyama sibling never took a challenge lying down. When life gave you lemons, make lemonade. Sound instruction he acquired in Amerope.

Few realized Chisao was the maestro behind Maha Ichiban’s gutsier dishes. The concepts for Wash Basin Curry, Deep Sea Curry, and Shaved Ice Curry originated from Dekao and Mahajarama, but Chisao proudly claimed credit for initial preparation of their recipes. Most of this ungodly menu usually went to Netto; however, since Netto would eat nigh anything, his appetite served as a lousy litmus test for public reception.

Kosuke embodied the opposite. Lacking a result-skewing bias in favour of curry, and yet to outgrow impudently speaking his mind, he was the perfect candidate.

No filter was what Chisao wanted. Without constructive criticism, he’d never improve.

Following Kosuke’s advice, he re-entered the kitchen, where he climbed a stool and emptied a quarter kilogram of jaggery into the mix simmering on the stove. “No sense not taking risks, Nii-chama!”

Madoi strolled up front in her bikini, tailed by Hinoken and Count Elec, to greet their latest patron. Who else but Hikari Netto, fresh off the sand and the Cross Fusion Members’ “training camp” ball game!

Saddled with extra portions anyways, Chisao loaded matching bowls and presented them to Kosuke and Netto. “Here it is, chu! Niichan’s idea: Kakigori Curry, chu!”

The fish cake slices Chisao added jolted Kosuke’s nerves.

“It looks delicious!” Netto licked his lips.

Apprehensive, Dekao posted a thumb above speed dial, should Kosuke require medical attention.

Thankfully, EMTs weren’t needed ’cause the boys’ positive reviews aligned.

“Sooooo good!” Netto and Kosuke asked for seconds.

To commemorate the meal’s success, Mahajarama threaded Chisao’s arms through the holes in a youth-sized sleeveless affair.

“Th-this is –!”

“Congratulations, Chisao! You’ve officially earned the uniform!”

“Yahoo! Chisao-kun, you did it!” Kosuke nuzzled residual foodstuff all over his face.

“Hehe! That tickles, chu!”

“Awww!” Madoi swooned. “Aren’t you two the cutest?”

…

“Isn’t my new parka cool, chu?” Chisao twirled.

The jumpy quintet mumbled affirmatively.

Kosuke tightened his bear hug around Chisao. He was supposed to be the older one. Hence, braver. Yet he was quickly discovering there were situations even adults couldn’t handle.

Hearsay from Dr. Hikari of a haunted house overlooking the cliffs caught World Three’s interest.

“Maybe it’ll be fun to check it out,” Madoi had suggested.

Instead, they’d lost her somewhere in the mansion, and now double-guessed every random noise in the dark.

“What was that?” Hinoken’s normally burning blood ran cold.

A creak.

Count Elec freaked. “Oh my god!”

Chisao leapt onto Kosuke, and Kosuke almost leapt out of his skin.

Termites? Bats? Madoi’s zombie?

Sheets of white flittered across the reflections in the antique armours standing guard on either side of the corridor.

“Ghosts!”

“GHOSTS? Where?” Nenji and Dingo popped up, scaring the daylights out of them.

Indubitably, the Cross Fusion Members heard the rumours and also opted to explore.

“Dingo! What are you trying to do? Frighten us to death?” Dekao blistered.

Yeesh. The only thing scarier than man-eating spooks was running into Dingo, full-on commando.

Or so they believed, until real live phantoms showed up.

“SHOOOOES!”

Their screams did not die. Not before the ghosts silenced every last one of them.

…

Later, on the other end of the retreat, the Cross Fusion Members, Maha Ichiban’s crew, and a slew of uninvited guests de-stressed in the outdoor baths. The haunted house had been exposed as somebody’s idea of a joke. Holograms, string puppets, and mechanized compartments.

Meiru and Jasmine clashed over an oblivious Netto, themselves oblivious to Netto playing handsies with Tohru in the shallows.

Madoi and Pride pet a blushing Dingo, who sank to eye level beneath the springs to disguise his discomfort, creating tiny bubbles.

Yaito and Anetta held a scowling contest apropos the absent Enzan.

_It must get complicated when you grow up_, Chisao thought, treasuring the years he had left with Kosuke.

“Chisao, why don’t you take that off while you’re in the water?” Dekao advised, referring to the now-infamous parka.

“Nothing you say will ruin this for me, chu!” Chisao towelled his cheek beside Kosuke. “This is paradise...”


End file.
